


First Comes Summer

by smack



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Pre Derek/Stiles?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smack/pseuds/smack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remembering the old adage, "Third time to charm," Stiles wonders how it came to be. Certainly not because a third time are even remotely charming, he hopes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Comes Summer

Stiles sees Derek three times during the summer. Scott has his little side project to distract him. Something about 'the New and Improved Scott McCall' that for all Stiles loves him, cannot possibly be accomplished.

 

The first sighting is in the forest. Or near about, anyways. Derek's black Camaro sitting on the side of the long highway. Its owner standing just to the forest side of it. Stiles thinks about stopping. Thinks, maybe Derek had car trouble. But the Alpha glances at him as his jeep slows and Stiles suddenly realizes that Derek is an ass-hat who should have called for help, had his car broken down. His jeep speeds off down the road, far above the speed limit even for such a back alley type drive. Stiles isn't tempted to look in the rear-view mirror. Not even a little.

 

The second time of the summer, is much more face-to-face. The grocery store where Stiles picks up his main four food groups (Sugar, salt, grease and caffeine) is slightly off the beaten path. Not far enough to where Stiles expects to find Derek, studying soup labels. This time, without the car window and half a highway between them, Stiles feels it's his job to talk to the older man.

 

"Hey." he says. And then realizes the fault. By talking to the man, he's given Derek permission to ignore him, or talk back. Derek raises his eyebrow at Stiles and Stiles can read a whole novel in his look. 

 

"Alright, Sourwolf. I was just picking up some snacks. No need to eyebrow me to death." With that, Stiles turns and walks off to the cashier, paying for his food and walking out the front door. If he happens to glance at the tiny store's reflection in the glass doors, well, who can really blame him?

 

Remembering the old adage, "Third time to charm," Stiles wonders how it came to be. Certainly not because a third time are even remotely charming, he hopes. It's nearer the end of summer, one of Stiles' friends (Because thank you, Scott, he DOES have other friends!!) has a party that runs far over his usual summer curfew. The drinking didn't get out of hand, but Stiles knows he's had more than the son of a sheriff should have.

 

He calls Scott, but his friend must already be in bed. His useless-in-a-tight-spot friend. He can stay the night at Scott's, without his dad thinking too much of it. But getting the lump to answer is harder than Stiles anticipates.

 

"SCOTT. Pick up. I need you dude." he whines into the phone. He's walking already, in the general direction of Scott's house. The party wasn’t very far, just far enough that walking while intoxicated is not really working for Stiles. The

Camaro that pulls up next to him is like the icing on a cake.

 

"Hiya, Derek." He sighs at the dark window. It rolls down and one green-blue-whatever colored eye inspects him from the driver's side.

  
"Are you going to die?" the werewolf asks. "Are you going to puke?" Stiles looks at him curiously.

  
"Do you actually care?" he wonders aloud. Derek's eyes roll, and he reaches across to open the passenger door.

 

"Get in, Stiles." the teenager does, and closes the door after himself. "I heard you calling for Scott. But you just wanted a designated driver ride?" Stiles snorts.

  
"Dude. I just need to get over to Scotts house." He glances around. "Where are we anyways."

 

"You want to go to Scotts? It's clear across town." Stiles thinks for a moment. "But you can't go home smelling like alcohol because your father is the sheriff." Derek sighs.

 

"Dude. Is it really that far?" Derek gives him a look, complete with eyebrow.

 

"How did you get there?" With Derek's eyes on the road, it's hard for Stiles to follow the conversation. "Don’t call me Dude."

 

"Do you know, that when you get confused, your eyebrows do this mamba thing?" the drunk one asks. Derek rolls his eyes again and Stiles grins. "You totally practice it in the mirror, don't you?"

 

"Stiles, I'm trying to ignore you. Shut up." And Stiles huffs into the window.

 

"Well, you didn't have to be rude." He mutters. The rest of the ride falls in silence, until finally, they're outside Scott's house. "Hey, Thanks for the ride." he says, just to be polite.

 

"Don't mention it." Derek growls. "No really." Stiles laughs.

 

"You know, I was trying to fight the belief that you are actually a teenage movie cliché." He smirks. And then blows a kiss. "Goodnight, my knight in shining armor." Derek blinks, but doesn't respond. By the time he thinks of anything witty, or snappy to say back, Stiles is already letting himself into the McCall's front door.


End file.
